The Blood Of Michael Myers
by TheReverendSt.Jimmy
Summary: Steven the 16 year old version of Jamie's baby that "mysteriously" disappears after movie #6 and he is adopted, and Michael comes back. The man in black kills Michael and Steven at the same time, the curse gets passed on to Steven. What happens to Michael
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the revised version of my story...it's better than the first one...it's more descriptve. And has an actual PLOT. For your information: Steven is around 16 years old. Uh...that's all you really need to know at this point...**

**Chapter One: The Beginning of The End **

The morning was refreshing, like a cool drink of water on a hot day. The sun was just peeking over the clouds, streaking the town with golden ribbons of light. Very few cars were on the road, being as it was rather early. I was walking alongside the road on my way to school. The orange sun finally fought through the clouds, and shined brightly against my back. My long black shadow stretched before me, like my soul escaping my body.

I wished I could be just a shadow. That way I could shrink into the blackness whenever someone made fun of me, or pushed me around. Because let's face it, I was the invisible kid of the school at times, and other times I was a walking punching bag. It all depended on the mood of my enemies. Well, they were more like . . . bullies . . but not as juvenile. For example, if they could get away with it, they would bring a bazooka to school and blow my brains out. I don't know why they hate me so much . .

I stared down at my black and white converse shoes, feeling the dread build up inside of me. I didn't want to go to school. Not now, not ever. I could get by in life my flipping burgers, really. Was it really necessary to force me to endure such torture?

I heard a car coming, so I got off the side of the road and walked in the grass. But who should pull up beside me then my best friend Johnny? He rolled his window down and yelled at me, yanking my attention away from my shoes.

"Hey, are you gonna walk to school and be late, or are you gonna lemme drive you?" he half yelled. I just shrugged my shoulders and got into his car. I set my black backpack onto my lap. He took one look at it and grinned. "You've been studying all night again, haven't you?"

"Well, what else am I gonna do, call up my buddies and chat? WHAT BUDDIES?" We go over this every morning.

"You could call me," he exclaimed. "What, so you think you're too good for me?" He grinned as he drove.

"Someone is too busy seeking out young blood to pick up the phone, am I right?"

He just laughed and turned up the radio. It was a song from Quiet Riot, his favorite band. He had all of thier cd's and shirts and whatever else. Right now he was wearing a black Quiet Riot tee shirt and tight jeans with huge holes in the knees, and his semi-short blonde hair was spiked up. He noticed me staring at him and asked, "What?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you owned any other shirts without that band on it," I replied, shifting my attention out the window. We were pulling into the school parking lot.

When Johnny parked his Camero, I jumped out and headed for the school. There was this big commotion going on out front, and they were chanting something. I walked up to the crowd, and saw that they were carrying signs. With my name on it. With a picture of Michael Myers. I knew something was up, and it wasn't going to be pretty. I ducked around the corner before anyone could see me. Johnny walked up, and I pulled him around the corner with me.

"Dude--"

"I know, I saw it. What's going on? I know it's Halloween, but why is _my_ name next to _Michael Myer's_ picture?" I whispered.

"Whoa . . is that what this is all about?" Johnny asked me, obviously confused. He hadn't seen the signs obviously.

"For some reason, they're comparing me to _him_."

Someone began to talk. We listened.

"Steven is the reason that our town has been in peril for so many years! He is the nephew of our enemy, Michael Myers. He's going to come back for Steven sooner or later to break his curse! We cannot live in fear, knowing that any Halloween he could come back and kill any one of us!" A girl yelled.

Someone cried, "Find Steven and tie him up! Make Michael go away!"

The crowd agreed with applause and shouting. I felt sick.

"Johnny, what am I gonna do?"

"Let's get out of here, first. Then we can figure something out!"

I nodded quickly and slowly walked backwards. Johnny followed me. Suddenly, a few people came around the corner and laid eyes on me. Their eyes grew wide.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Haddonfield coroner unzipped the black bag, revealing the half-scorched body of Michael Myers, mass murderer. His white mask was nearly melted**_

_**offhis face, and patches of burnt skin showed in some places. The coroner curiously began to wedge the mask off, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. She **_

_**managed to get pieces of it off, but most ofit was melted right into the skin. She bent closer, tugging a little at the rubber mask, when all of a sudden **_

_**Michael's eyes shot open and he let out a moan that was full of anger and pain. The coroner leapt back, and seized one of her scapels. She held it out in front**_

_**of her, as Michael climbed out of the body bag. She backed up further and further,shaking with fear. When the cold cement wall pressed against her back, **_

_**she knew she was a goner. As he slowly stalked towards her, firery anger alit in his eyes, she sunk to the floor, holding the scapel out and inching herself **_

_**towards the door that was just inches away . . . But in an instant Michael had flipped over the table that was covered with her special coroning knives and **_

_**the floor became a dangerous part of his game. Picking up the bloody kitchen knife that had been pryed out of his fist upon arrival, he advanced on the girl, **_

_**ready to strike. But she had other plans. She leapt up, embedding the scapel into his neck, and turned to run. But he had grabbed her wrist, blood spurting **_

_**out of his neck, and spun her towards him, and embedding his own knife into her stomach. He held onto her a second more, watching the life drain from **_

_**her fear-filled eyes, then let her drop, another victim in his blood-stained path towards Hell. He pulled the scapel out of his neck and threw it to the floor, **_

_**and slowly crept out of the building and into the crispness of the morning.**_

"Steven!" One of them whispered, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. "What're you _doing_ here? Their parents are gonna run you and Michael down!" It was my friend Floyd, with his girlfriend faithfully at his side.

"I'm _not_ related to that psychopath!" I whispered back.

"Uh, yeah you _are_. Someone found your real birth certifricate and I know you'd better get outta here or else they'll like, grab you and tie you to a tree or something. That way Michael Myers'll find you and finish you off without killing anyone innocent."

"But _I'm_ innocent!"

"GO!" Floyd pushed me backwards, so I jogged to the back of the school, Johnny in tow. We took off at a full sprint until we got to the woods at the end of the school's property, then stopped, out of breath.

"Where . . are we supposed to go . . this fucking early . . in the morning?" Johnny panted.

"Your house."

"Whatever. My parents are working, so they wouldn't know. Unless they come home to the two of us lying dead in a bloody mess . . "

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," I said sarcastically. We decided to leave his car in the parking lot and walk over to his house. It wasn't that long of a walk.

When we got there, I dropped my backpack and locked the door. We went into his room and locked ourselves in there, too. I layed down on his bed, holding a pillow over my face. Johnny cranked his stereo, hoping to make the situation better with good tunes. It didn't for me. It actually made me more paranoid, because I couldn't hear if someone was in the house. So I made him turn it off. And remain silent.

"How the fuck do you expect me to be silent _all day_?" he whispered.

"Hey, if you want to tell the world WE'RE IN HERE! Go ahead and stand on the porch with a huge sign that says it. But if not, just keep it down, okay? There's a psycho killer apparently on the loose. And a mob of angry parents."

"True."

We sat there, not really knowing what to do. It wasn't like old times where we would play World Of Warcraft or watch Star Wars, or listen to loud music, etc. This wasn't the time for all that. Our lives (_mine_, mostly) were at stake. So we just leaned back and made ourselves comfortable, and prepared for the worst.

At about one, I opened my eyes and felt my stomach grumble hopefully. Johnny had fallen asleep too, but I didn't really feel like waking _him_ up so that _I_ could get a sandwich. So I quietly got off the bed and stepped over Johnny, who had taken residence on the floor, and walked softly out of his room. The house was dimly lit, being as his parents believed in pulling the shades shut when they left the house, so I sort of stumbled into things as I went. But when I got to the end of the hallway, I noticed that it was much lighter in the entrance hall. Slowly, I tiptoed into the room.

And stopped. The door that we had so carefully shut and locked that morning was lying on the floor. In _pieces._ Someone had tried to run through the door . . AND SUCCEEDED. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

"JOHNNY!!" I screamed, running back to the bedroom. I reached his doorway in time to see--

"Nooooo!"

A tall dark figure in a mechanic's uniform was standing over the bloody mess that had been my best friend nearly two minutes ago. Michael Myers had sliced his knife across Johnny's throat, and had been watching the blood drain out of him when I announced my presence. I froze, unable to move. Michael turned slowly, flashing his black eyes at me, and took a step foreward. I wanted nothing more than to fall at Johnny's side and scream and cry. He was all I had! I had no real friends, no real family, and all that I ever had was lying in front of me, dead because I had been selfish. I hadn't wanted to be alone. And now I was. Forever. Because Johnny wasn't coming back.

Instead of running like I should've, I charged at him and head-butted him, swinging my fists and hitting every surface of him as I could. But unfortunately, he didn't budge. Or wince. In a second, he had my arm twisted behind my back and was marching me out of the room. Johnny's lifeless eyes watched me struggle and fight for my life. But a loud POP! rang out and I collapsed to the floor (or tried to) in pain. My shoulder had popped out of it's joint. I was screaming with pain. Michael resorted to dragging me behind him with my injured arm. My feet dragged through Johnny's innocent blood, leaving trails behind me. Tears ran down my face, screams erupted from my mouth. Michael Myers was going to kill me.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, it gets really weird after this chapter, just telling ya now...I ran outta ideas and just let the coffee in my veins do the thinking...so yeah. Lol. Keep up the reviews or I ain't writing anymore!!**

I awoke in a panic, but did not feel pain. My sight was blurry, but I could tell that I was lying on a table, with my arms and legs strapped to it. Several torches had been crudly stabbed into the ground, in a circle around me. I was in a room of some sort, with a high ceiling and stone walls, with windows too far up to even think of escape.

A sound brought me back to my senses. The door had opened, and a man dressed from head to toe in black was quickly walking toward me. I couldn't see his face, because it was covered up the the nose with a cloth. Just his cold, black eyes were visible, and they were boring holes into me as he came toward me.

"So you thought you could out smart me, eh?" he demanded in a deep voice. I shook my head desperately, seeing that he had a pistol in his hand. That could be deadly. "Then why did you run?"

I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to die. Nope. Why is he pointing the gun at me? Oh shit, he's gonna shoot me! But he didn't. Instead he lowered the gun and grinned absently. He was insane. Seriously, if I made it out alive, I was gonna blow _his_ fucking brains out! See how _he_ liked it!

"Michael, I want you to hurry up and finish the job. I didn't waste my whole life plotting this fucking kid's death for the moment to be destroyed by the rest of the people after him!"

"Why after me?" I finally managed to croak out.

"Because you've somehow taken the blame for everyone's death. The whole fucking town of Haddonfield is out to blow your fucking brains out!" He laughed. "You're one popular kid!"

He waved Michael out from the darkness with his pistol. Apparently, if I tried to get away, I was gonna get my brains blown out the back of my head. I silently contemplated this idea. Either way I was gonna die: did I want to die from stabbing or gunshot? Neither sounded too promising.

Michael got right up to me, and I felt my body shake. I struggled against the ropes. A shot rang out, and a bullet buried itself into the table beside my head. I went completely stiff. Michael raised the knife over his head, in a dramatic sort of way. I pleaded with my eyes. I looked into his obsidian eyes and saw hope. He was my uncle, for Godssake! What if it wsa the curse that was making him do it, and he really wanted to let me live?

"Please! Don't do this, Michael! I'm only sixteen! _He's _the one who put you under the curse in the fisrt place! Michael, fight it!"

Michael paused. And stared down at me through his white mask. He stared down at me for several seconds, which turned into minutes. I held my breath, hoping for _something_...

Michael turned his massive body away from me, and held his knife out in front of him. He'd made up his mind, and it wasn't me that he was going to kill. It was his captor.

"DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" I screamed, as Michael thrust his knife into the Man In Black's chest, who at the same time shot Michael with his gun. And then me. Blackness took over me, and I saw no further.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: Okay, so if you don't like swearing, then this chapter isn't for you. Anyone else, know that the bold part is a metaphor, so think outside of the box. Enjoy, man!**

Thumpthump. Thumpthump. The sound of a heartbeat; distant yet very . . close. I was unable to open my eyes. I was caught in a dream, filled with horror and pain, blood and tears.

_**A fog-like substance surrounded me in this dream, but I wasn't alone. Someone was chasing me. Someone . . dark and mysterious. A shadow. It stayed close behind me, keeping the same pace as me. Ahead, there was a carnival. The lights were glowing bright, but there were no people. As I got closer, I saw a man standing in the entrance, blocking my way. He was wearing all black, with a cloth covering his face. The brim of his hat was pushed down over his eyes. "Steven," he growled, reaching an arm out for me. "Accept your fate!"**_

_**"Fuck you, man!" I shouted, pushing past him. "Leave me alone!"**_

_**He grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt, but I managed to wriggle free. I had to get away from it all. I had to free myself from this…mess. **_

Thumpthump. Thumpthump. I was being carried. My head was against someone's chest. The dream continued.

_**I was running through the circus now, and it was completely empty. All of the rides were going, but no one was running them, or riding them. As I ran through it, I realized that there was no way out. I had to go back out the way I had come, which meant that I had to accept my fate in order to get out of this place. **_

"_**No fucking way!" I shouted, as I climbed onto the carousel. It was slowly moving around and around, perfect for not going backwards. If I couldn't go forward, and I couldn't go backwards, where could I go from there? AROUND. **_

_**I let it go around a few times, before looking behind me. What I saw was heart-stopping. **_

_**Michael Myers was right behind me, ready to strike. Except…he was smaller than what I remembered…shorter, and not as muscular…in fact, he was the same height as me…**_

_**Not thinking, I reached up and pulled at his mask. It came off in my hands, just as I felt his knife slide into my abdomen. Blood seeped out of me, soaking my clothes and making me dizzy. But before I closed my eyes…the person behind the mask wasn't Michael, it was--- **_

"NOOOO!" I screamed, opening my eyes and frantically feeling my stomach to find that I wasn't, in fact, dying. There was no wound. There was no blood. Instead, there was a hospital gown and an I.V. hooked to my arm. I was being helped. I immediately felt the pain from an earlier, and should I say, more realistic wound that made me gasp and moan when I remembered where it had come from. It came from beneath a sling that my arm was in. I remembered that Michael had pulled my shoulder out of its socket, and it hurt like fucking hell.

"Oh…shit. Oh…shit. Ooooooh Shhhhhit…." My moaning roused someone who had been sleeping, totally unnoticed by me until that exact moment, in the chair on the other side of the room. He was curled up into a tight ball, if that were possible considering how tall he was, and his long dark hair was down over his face. When he noticed that I had awoken, he stumbled to his feet.

"You're awake…" was all he said, before rushing out of the room and disappearing down the hall. The doctor came in, and began looking at his charts.

"Who was that?" I asked, pointing toward the empty chair, where the guy had been two seconds earlier. The doctor shook his head.

"As far as I know, no one was in here. This is a restricted ward. No visitors allowed," he said as he began running tests. I suddenly felt very angry at the doctor, because he must've been lying. Didn't he SEE the guy walk out the door RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM? Before he could stick the sleeping drug-syringe into me, I grabbed his wrist. He cried out, which made me happy inside, and I forced it into him. Instantly, he fell to the floor. He wasn't dead. I wouldn't kill him. Yet.

I ran out of the room and down the hall. Only…it wasn't set up like a normal hospital. There wasn't a nurse station, and there weren't other…hospital rooms…and all I saw was a long white hallway… that ended in…a bolted door…which looked awfully like…an insane asylum door…

Looking around me, I realized that I was trapped in an insane asylum ward, bolted in and unable to escape the army of male nurses rushing at me. One beat me to the floor while another stuck a syringe into my arm and slipped my into a straight jacket…I fought, struggling against the jacket that held my arms to my sides. My shoulder screamed in pain and I don't remember whether I passed out from the intense pain, or from the drugs they forced into me. All I remember was falling into a nurse's arms and looking up at the white tiled ceiling, before closing my eyes and dreaming about…nothing.

**A/N: Not finished with the story, so stay tuned! Also, reviews! Tell me how good this one was, or whether I should stick my head in a toilet and flush it. Cheerio! **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**A/N: These chapters were written during lectures at school, so they may focus more on either description, or blood and gore. So don't be alarmed at the difference between these chapters and the others.**

A jingling could be heard from outside the door. I waited, and a tall, longhaired woman opened the door and stepped inside the room. She had long blonde hair that was tied back, and her bright blue eyes gleamed as she flashed a beautiful smile my way. She was wearing a white nurse's dress, complete with the cute little hat.

When she set the food tray down in front of me, she said, "Hiya hun. Whatcha in here for?"

She began to reach around me and untie the straitjacket that bound my arms to my sides. I remained silent. There was no need for conversation when I was quickly plotting my escape. She continued to chatter happily.

"Well, I think that the guy who brought you in was insane . . having carried you in without a car! I bet he walked through the woods carryin' you!"

I cocked my head to one side, showing that I was now quite interested.

"I never did see him though . . the nurses all say that he was tall, dark, and had this mane of hair that fell into his face, obscuring their view. But they say he was huge! Must've been six foot seven or so."

This brought me to my senses. Grabbing the tray, I threw it at her, watching as she fell backwards against the wall. This good thing about padded walls . . no one heard her scream. Except me. I grabbed her proceeding to get my hands around her neck. I twisted it, hearing the loud CRACK! it made before she fell to the floor, dead. I was free!

I made it out quickly, rushing down the hall and searching for the stairs. I couldn't find them, so I hopped in the elevator and the doors closed behind me.

Elevator music. Somebody shoot me. I punched the button for the first floor and waited patiently for the box that I was in to slowly move down to the next floor.

When it got there, the doors opened and a doctor entered. I looked down at what I was wearing and realized that I was wearing paitent clothes: plain white t-shirt and plain white pants. I was screwed if the doctor looked over at me...

I didn't want to wait that long. I twisted his hands behind his back and began beating his face into the wall of the elevator. BANG! BANG! I pulled back his head for another blow and saw the blood streaked on the wall. BANG! BANG! He slumped in my arms and I dropped him to the floor, just as the elevator doors slid open and I strode out of Smith's Grove Insane Asylum without a sound.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

It was dark. I was covered in bright red blood. Oh, yeah. The blood that I'd earned. Blood from a once living human being, whom had fallen at my mercy. The blood that once ran through their veins, keeping them alive. Well, they wouldn't need it any longer. Their blood was _my_ trophy of excellence, having succeeded in allowing the curse to take me, surround me, hover around me like a shadow. I was Steven Myers, nephew of Michael Myers, whose blood I sought.

I was running through the woods like a madman, to say the least. Blood was in my future, and many would spill it at my feet, crying in agony. Would I stop? Never! I was to be feared, and fear I would create. Fear. Loathing. Pain.

His pain. He who caused such misery in the past must die the same way. Painful. And bloody. Oh, yes. There would be blood. As a very respected man once said, "If you want blood . . You've got it!"

It was dark. Cold…and dark. I needed some kind of weapon to use if I was going to spill the blood of my enemy. I had to find a house…one that had a plain ol' kitchen knife. But…I really didn't want to use his old tactics…he'd know what was coming…but not if I hid it beneath my clothes…that would work…

To my surprise, there was indeed a little cabin on the outside of Haddonfield. It was very small, and there were no lights on inside at all. Perfect for sneaking in and stealing me a knife. But…the trick was HOW. How was I going to get a knife without waking anyone up? Then I thought, _you're a fucking serial killer who can't die because you're under the curse of Thorn! Duh… I found a sliding glass door and kicked through the glass, and barged into the house. A light flicked on and a man holding a shotgun entered the tiny kitchen. _

"_Sharon! It's one of the loonies! They've escaped!" he yelled, pointing the gun at me and steadying it. "Back off, son, if you know what's best for you." _

_I grinned and began opening drawers at random, finding a silverwear drawer and sifting through it. No killing knife. I turned and began searching the other drawers, when a shot rang out and I felt pressure in my back. Then it was gone. He'd shot me. Hah! He'd pay… I found a rack of knives and grabbed the biggest, sharpest, longest one I could find and tucked it in the inside of my pantline. Then, for good measure, I grabbed several knives and threw them at the man, piercing him in the chest and neck as he pulled the trigger several more times. He slumped to the floor as I ducked back out the broken glass door. _


	7. Chapter 7

The street was dark and empty. Not a soul had lived on the street since Michael returned to his childhood home a few years back. Abandoned houses loomed high above me, mocking me with promises from the past. They had seen more violence in their existences than I had in the past few hours.

I stood there in the center of the street, contemplating how I would make my entrance. Would I use the front door, or find a different way in? I'd better find a different way into the dingy, dark house, for he might actually be inside…

"I'm coming for you, Uncle."

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_**An outstretched hand, reaching for the mercy that wasn't granted. Slash! His mother lay in a puddle of her own blood, looking up at her astray son with wide eyes. The blonde boy still wore his Halloween Costume, the happy clown that never meant to hurt anyone. His face was hidden by a mask, hiding his inner feelings. He was prisoner of his own body, living inside this…anger. It wasn't a palpable substance…just the anger that wrapped itself around him and choked out the ability to control himself. **_

Michael kneeled at the fire_**, **_holding a picture of his mother in his hands. His life…was over. He had been kidnapped, and now that he was home, no one was here…he'd killed them all…he was normal again, but that cost his family's lives…there was no one left…

He felt a tear slip down his cheek, filled with pain and regret. But what did he have to regret? Everything. He should've just locked himself in a closet and rotted away, for he had no one to turn to now. He was alone and helpless, unable to take care of himself. And this new feeling in his stomach? It rumbled and groaned, and made him weak. He didn't know what to do…

And now that the boy was in good hands, he couldn't possibly hurt anyone that way…but yes…he was an offspring of Jamie, the persistent child who never gave up trying to love him. But…

Michael closed his eyes and dropped the picture into the fire. The boy was coming for him, it was only a matter of hours. He should… Michael made up his mind. Now that he was mortal again, he would give his life for the life of his nephew. That was all he had to do in order to keep the same thing from happening to his nephew. Michael had to find Steven…he had to find him and sacrifice his own soul for the boy. _It must be done, _he thought fiercely. _It MUST be done._

Michael stood slowly, then headed out the door of his childhood home. He would be leaving it for the last time…never to return.

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The back door was completely gone, having been knocked down by a great force. Michael was here. Holding my knife out in front of me, I entered the house, keeping my eyes focused. He could be anywhere. I would just have to find him…

I slowly walked through the kitchen, looking behind and under things. He wasn't in there…

"_Trick or treat, Uncle," I whispered, a small smile replacing my grimace. _

_I reached the living room, looking around. Michael didn't seem to be in here either…but before I could continue on to the array of bedrooms, I glanced at the pile of photos that were splayed across the floor. I saw one of a beautiful woman smiling happily into the camera. I got down on my knees to look, holding it in my hands. She was very pretty, with long brown hair and brown eyes. Flipping through the rest of them, I grew bored and threw them into the fire. Michael wasn't here._

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_The fire blazed as the young boy stood and dashed out the door of the old Myers' home. A flame leaped from the fire; an ablaze picture of a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes, holding a baby boy in her arms. She was very proud of her first child; the child she had yet to name. The child she left behind when she was stabbed to death by her Uncle…_

_The flame caught the wood floor on fire, causing an eruption of flames, engulfing the rest of the old Myers' home. _

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_Michael trudged through the woods, searching for Smiths' Grove Asylum. He seemed to be lost without the curse showing him where to go…he had to find his nephew before more people died…_

_After storming about in the woods for a good half hour, he reached a clearing. It was Smiths' Grove. Only…it wasn't an empty clearing. There were hundreds of people shouting and protesting, holding up signs and pumping their fists in the air. He made his way to the front, easily pushing people aside. The man standing in front of the crowd of people was shouting for quiet. There was an immediate hush, as people were noticing Michael towering over the man. He didn't have his mask on, but his bloody mechanics uniform told the man that he was in trouble. Michael stared down at the man, realizing that he was facing a human being without feeling the urge to spill their blood. It was…nice. A small smile found its way to his lips. The man was horrified. BANG! A bullet shot out from the crowd and embedded itself into the chest of Michael Myers, Mass Murderer. He fell to the pavement, clutching his heart with his bloody fingers. _


End file.
